


Someone to Die For

by Phoenixflames12



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixflames12/pseuds/Phoenixflames12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie and Darcy are separated during a battle against the undead and it is in the chaos that ensues that Darcy realises that he is willing to risk everything to save his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to Die For

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lips Touch.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108139) by [biblio_witch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblio_witch/pseuds/biblio_witch). 



> As well as biblio_witch's wonderful fic, this was also inspired by this youtube video 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61NrafoZtSY&nohtml5=False

Blood blurs his eyes as a sudden ball of panic lodges itself in his throat, making it suddenly impossible to breathe.

 

_She’d been there._

 

She’d been right there, fighting with all she was worth; whirling and flying like a lioness across the broken, beaten ground.

 

She’d been fighting beside him, their hands clasping and unclasping as the zombies lurched and twisted into their swords, the blackened hands groping; throats striking a sickening, blinding red as the warriors swords slashed against the rotten flesh of the undead.

 

They would not let them win.

 

They had been fighting too long for that.

 

She’d been there and the thought that she was lost, that his wife; the woman he had grown to love before all others might have succumbed to the infection, might have joined the legion of those whose very breath drenched his skin with icy sweat was too much to bear.

 

‘Darcy!’

 

He swings around at the voice; a sudden, guttural cry; his sword sliding unconsciously into the rotten flesh of a lunging zombie, barely seeing how the black blood of the monster congealed almost instantly against the blade as it staggered, crumpling at his feet in a mess of blackened rags.

 

This battle is barely three days old; barely half the time it took to force their numbers down during the siege of London and yet with Elizabeth not with him; it feels like a lifetime.

 

Fear makes him faster.

 

It makes him faster, wilder; his movements blinded by a haze of crimson panic that continues to press against the corners of his eyes as he forces his way forward through their ranks, his footwork staggering slightly under the weight of what he knows is expected of him.

 

His father would scold him for such carelessness, he thinks as his sword expertly cleaves through the head of a zombie dressed in the tatters of an army red coat.

 

_Dear God, how fast it had spread!_

 

Elizabeth would too and so would Georgiana, but he cannot think of either of them, just yet; not when there is so much at stake and his wife is missing…

 

_His wife…_

 

‘Darcy!’ The voice is clearer now, cutting through the thickening haze of pain and fear that has clouded his vision as another disfigured face rears up before him and through the blur, he recognises it as Mary.

 

His sword finds its mark within the protruding ribcage of another red coat clad zombie; the death thrust a sudden flash of steel and burst of blackened blood.

 

She has lost her glasses and her hair is unbound; tumbling in a tangle of ebony curls against her shoulders, an angry bruise smudging against her cheek. The hem of her dress is torn and mud stained; a rip of blackened blood rising through the welkin blue of her dress.

 

‘Darcy!’ Her voice is breathless, caught between fear and urgency as she grips at his sleeve, pulling him towards her.

 

‘Lizzie… Elizabeth…’

 

The words are caught and breathless, but the sound of his beloved’s name is enough to break the dam of relief that has been building, despite itself, in his chest since he realised that Elizabeth was missing.

 

‘Where is she?’

 

‘Over there’, she points to a mass of the dead and dying beyond the main battle ground and his heart constricts suddenly until he finally makes out the flash of a white dress hunched over a body that he cannot make out clearly.

 

The words are automatic, rougher than he intended in retrospect, but fear has made him harder, made them all harder and he knows that the heat of battle would be the last place for Mary to take offence at his tone.

 

The battlefield was not the dining room after all.

 

It is only now that he realises that the white dress belongs to Jane.

 

Only realises that the body…

_Elizabeth._

_Lizzie._

 

He does not remember thanking Mary, or even acknowledging her after that.

 

He barely even remembers running, his feet clogged with blood and dirt, trampling over the clutching, scrabbling hands of fallen zombies who still refused to die, his boots relishing in the satisfying snap of their fingers as he tramples them further into the mud.

 

Jane’s eyes are smudged red when he finally reaches them; but whether that’s from tears or smoke, he does not know.

 

He is not sure if he wants to know at all.

 

In front of them, Kitty, who he does not know at all, is slashing at any approaching undead who dares to get too close to her sisters; her sword strokes dangerously uneven, but he knows that now is neither the time, nor the place to be correcting anyone on their swordsmanship.

 

‘What happened?’

 

Supressed grief and smoke inhalation makes his voice rough; sudden tears choking at the end of the question as he drops to his knees beside Jane.

 

Elizabeth is lying immobile on the ground, blood oozing from a wound at her temple.

 

Her throat and cheek are rough from fire kisses, her sword arm showing burns and bruises of the same nature.

 

The hand is deadly cold against his own as he presses it to his lips, thanking anything and everything that her clothes had taken most of the damage.

 

_Come back to me, my love._

_Come back._

‘It was a grenade.’

Jane’s voice is deadly quiet, a choked whisper above the roar of the ongoing battle.

 

‘A zombie came up behind me and must have planted it without me knowing… Lizzie… She dispatched the zombie and pushed me aside…’

 

She breaks off; voice caught in a sudden, uncharacteristic sob; but he does not need to hear any more.

 

_How very like his wife; his wild, compassionate wife who was braver than any woman he knew, to save her sisters at the cost of herself!_

‘Oh Lizzie…’ His hands squeeze against her frozen fingers, desperately trying to find some form of feeling within them.

 

He shakes her shoulders when she doesn’t stir, the action vicious with grief; fingers reaching for any sign of a pulse.

 

_Pray God he could find one. Then at least he could be reassured that hope was not all lost._

A moment passes before it comes; fluttering as faintly as butterfly’s wings against the taut, bruised skin of her neck.

 

‘Elizabeth’, her name is barely a breath against his tongue as he finds her lips and presses a salt stained kiss against them; hoping that he had not imagined it, drawing back in case he had.

 

A flutter of an eyelash, a wrinkle of her nose; followed by a pained grimace as finally, finally she begins to wake.

 

He can breathe again.

 

‘William.’

 

She is silenced by a kiss that he feared that he would never be able to give her and smiles groggily back at him; knowing that both of them would be able to survive whatever the legions of the undead would throw at them, as long as they were together.

* * *

 

_**Fin** _

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to read and review!
> 
> Comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms etc are like chocolate to my brain!
> 
> Much love and enjoy x


End file.
